


Catalog

by glim



Category: Merlin (BBC) RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-11
Updated: 2010-08-11
Packaged: 2017-10-11 01:22:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/106737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glim/pseuds/glim
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>He'd count his bones, catalog each one in his mind, all two hundred and six precious pieces of Colin Morgan, feel his tongue slide over them, feel his teeth nick against the angles and corners.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Catalog

"You really have given up on eating altogether, haven't you?"

"What? No. No, of course not…" Colin laughed, the sound low and deep, rising up from his chest and vibrating against the hand Bradley rested there.

"Maybe I should start feeding you." A step toward the bedroom. Bradley leaned in to kiss the side of Colin's neck, to lick pale, warm skin and feel corded muscle beneath his tongue.

Colin laughed again and this time his lips touched Bradley's ear as he did and his voice dropped even lower. "Maybe you should."

There, in that moment, Colin's mouth so close, his words whispery, warm damp breath against skin, Bradley quickly decided he was neither tired nor hungry. God, no, not at all, not since the slow spin of desire had started to move through him. He'd come back to his flat, found Colin sprawled unceremoniously on the sofa, all mussed hair and rumpled clothes. Rumpled, ill-fitting clothes, a tee shirt that had been Bradley's a few trips through the tumble dryer ago, a pair of jeans, faded and worn to softness. When he'd stretched, lazy and content, the shirt gaped to show the ridge of his collarbone, and hiked up high enough that the angle and jut of his hipbones were visible before he pulled himself up off the sofa.

God. He'd looked seriously beautiful. Angled and awkwardly graceful and _beautiful_.

Now, too, with his body close enough to Bradley that Bradley could murmur down the column of his neck, could say 'yes' and '_yes_' and 'Colin' against his skin, could bite and lick the join of his neck and shoulder. Oh, and he did, with slow, certain enthusiasm that earned Bradley a hum of pleasure from Colin, as deep and throaty as his laugh, along with a push closer to the bedroom.

Colin felt slight and slim beneath his hands, but he was strong enough to keep pushing Bradley until they were walking, or, no, stumbling and shuffling closer to the bedroom. If Bradley tried to stop, to keep tasting and nibbling at Colin's neck, Colin would grip Bradley's wrist, his long, slim fingers tightening around it almost to the point of pain, and give him another push.

A shove, rough and eager, and then another, and they were next to Bradley's bed. Colin tipped his head to the side and wrapped his hand around Bradley's wrist, now wanting Bradley to kiss him again. He gasped at the touch of lips to a bite-mark and gasped harder, sharper, at that of teeth against the same place to deepen the mark.

"That. Yeah. Missed that…" Colin's fingers loosened around Bradley's wrist and his thumb rubbed over Bradley's pulse-point. "Missed a lot. Missed all this. Missed you."

"Me, too. So much. The way you taste." His mouth and skin and sweat, all over Bradley's tongue, like it should be, like it hadn't been for weeks now.

Bradley's hands glided down Colin's sides. He'd count his ribs, use his tongue and teeth to do so, and ignore the little voice that kept saying that Colin was so thin, _too_ thin, too thin for Bradley to be loving how his body was all sharp bones and pale skin beneath his hands. He'd count his bones, catalog each one in his mind, all two hundred and six precious pieces of Colin Morgan, feel his tongue slide over them, feel his teeth nick against the angles and corners.

"I've been wanting you. Kind of glad you didn't shower first. No, more than kind of." Bradley's hands at his hips, Colin closed the small space between them, aligned their bodies, shoulder to hip, mouth to mouth. "I want you all over me."

"Oh, you, _oh_, whatever you –"

One arm around Bradley's neck, fingers twining into his hair, Colin cut off his reply with a wet, open-mouthed kiss, and he gave another hum of satisfied pleasure at the sound of surprise he pulled from Bradley. For about a second, his arm felt cool against Bradley's neck, then, halfway into the kiss, all Bradley could feel was how very warm Colin was. Or how warm he was. Both of them, more like, he realized, and rocked his hips against Colin's to coax that warmth along.

Colin pulled away from the kiss, breathing against Bradley's lips, sliding his tongue over Bradley's and over his lips, kissing him not-kissing him, licking and breathing and almost kissing. There was enough space between them for Bradley to hook his thumbs inside the waistband of Colin's jeans and find that sweet rise of bone at his hips and rub small, tight circles against them. It was like he could feel how Colin was put together here, the raw, bare strength of sinews and skin, of muscle and bone, and that indefinable power that was Colin himself and that couldn't be contained by this strange, skinny body that Bradley wanted to learn, re-learn, and somehow, maybe, finally know.

A shift of breath, of tongue and lips against his own, and Colin was kissing Bradley again. More firmly now, his tongue pushing in to slide over Bradley's teeth and his tongue, mapping, deliberately slow for a second, controlled and demanding for another. As if he wanted the same kind of knowledge of Bradley that Bradley longed for of him; the thought send a surge of arousal through Bradley, strong enough to have him wrapping his hands around Colin's hips.

Arm still around Bradley's neck and one leg hooked around Bradley's, Colin backed him the last couple steps toward the bed and tumbled Bradley down, both of them needy, a crazy tangle of breath, tongues, and limbs. One of Colin's elbows prodded Bradley in the side and his body was uncomfortably heavy atop Bradley, sprawled over him like he'd been across the sofa cushions earlier. When he moved, propped himself up enough that he could look down at Bradley, his hair was a disaster and his skin flushed pink over his cheeks and down his neck to the hollow of his collarbone.

"Hey…" Bradley reached up to outline Colin's jaw with one fingertip.

"Hey, you." Colin flushed again at the touch, eyelashes fluttering against his cheek.

The softness in his eyes when he opened them was so suddenly, wonderfully amazing that Bradley felt his chest constrict. And he thought, _ yes_, he could be this for Colin, he could be the middle of the afternoon sex, the early morning tea in bed, the shower and back rub at the end of the day, the quiet when Colin needed it and the annoying questions when he'd been too quiet for too long. If Colin could look at him like that, unguarded and open, eyes darkened and mouth wet and pink, if Colin could move against him in painfully gentle ways and could move against him in painful and gentle ways, and if Colin could fall asleep on his sofa and could get angry or sad or disappointed when they were stupid enough to not talk to each other for weeks, then yes, _God yes_, Bradley could be all this for Colin.

He cupped Colin's face in the palm of his hand to draw him in close for one long, warm kiss, and smiled against Colin's lips before they found a more comfortable, familiar position on the bed.

More naked, too, Bradley thought, letting Colin pull off his tee shirt and jeans, too captivated by the way Colin's body moved to do it all for himself. Which, maybe, was sort of… not what Bradley had had in mind originally, but there was something incredible about the way Colin's fingers tugged and pulled, twisted in material and then twisted themselves in Bradley's hair again once he'd crawled up next to Bradley on the bed.

Another kiss, careful, almost chaste, and Colin buried his face in Bradley's neck, nuzzled into his sweat-damp hair, breathed in his scent and splayed his hand over the center of Bradley's chest. Possessive. Strong, Bradley remembered, and arched against Colin for only a moment before Colin pressed him back down against the mattress, his nose still buried in Bradley's hair.

The hand stayed on Bradley's chest until Colin moved to kiss Bradley's shoulder, then his chest, his cock hard against the crease of Bradley's thigh and his thin shoulders sharp under Bradley's palms.

By the time Colin's mouth had licked warm, wet paths down Bradley's torso, by the time he'd kissed his stomach and rested his cheek there, tender and quiet for a minute, by the time he'd nuzzled in between his thighs, teasing and nipping, then nuzzling again, at his balls, Bradley's mind had let go off any sense of patience.

He nudged one foot against Colin, went to do so again, and shuddered at the delicate way Colin licked up the length of his erection. There wasn't enough contact to arch up into; Colin wasn't even close enough to him at that point to rub himself against or to grip in his hands. Bradley lasted about a minute, between the way Colin licked and kissed the tip of his cock and the way he dug his fingers into Bradley's hips when he tried to twist them, before he let out a long, low groan.

Colin moved down lower to finger Bradley's thighs, his knees, the curve of his calves, the touch just as gentle as the touch of his tongue had been just moments ago. Bradley tugged him to sit up, wanting more of the warmth and closeness of Colin's body against his, and gave another groan to see Colin sit back and look at him.

He could. Maybe. No. He wouldn't ever really be able to tell Colin how beautiful he looked right now. His hair wild, his eyes lust-dark, his body that inexplicable, inexpressible combination of flushed warmth, harsh angles, his cock curling up towards his flat belly and his hand drifting down to stroke himself. Not that it mattered what he _looked_ like because he'd always be Colin, and in two, ten, twenty years, Bradley could still see himself lying back, captivated and uncertain how to express those feelings to Colin.

What he could do was this: lean forward, sit up on shaky elbows, and reach one hand forward to trace a line over Colin's collarbone, to palm the curve of his ribcage, to brush the back of his fingers over his hip. Colin made such sounds, breathy and quick, staccato, panting over parted lips.

Bradley fell back against the bed to fumble lube and condoms from the night table drawer, handed the foiled packet to Colin, and slicked up his own hand until it was covered with the warm, slippery stuff. Clenching his teeth against the swell of arousal, Bradley watched Colin roll the condom down onto his cock, his fingers too gentle all over again so that Bradley wasn't very gentle slicking himself up after it was on.

And maybe he wasn't very gentle nudging Colin away and onto his back, pressing his fingers inside Colin to stretch and fill him, and keeping them inside Colin until he was whimpering for Bradley to just _move_. First, however, three fingers deep inside Colin, Bradley leaned forward to pull Colin's up toward him, close enough that Bradley could kiss the back of his shoulder, the nape of his neck, the ridge of his spine just below that sensitive place.

Before Colin could push back against his hand and whimper at him again, Bradley drew his fingers out, quickly replaced them with his cock, one forceful thrust deep inside Colin. Who gasped with a ragged, hoarse sound, and they both remained still and close for a moment. Colin moved first, angling his hips to urge Bradley to move, too, and then to move with Bradley.

Oh, god, and he moved just the right way, driving Bradley deeper inside him, good and tight and slick, and Bradley's not able to stop himself, not after having spent so long touching and watching Colin. He comes with what felt like all of him shattering from the inside out. Not too destroyed to slide his already lube-slicked hand around Colin's hip and to start stroking him to bring him off.

That was almost better than his own orgasm. Colin didn't come right away, but kept moving against Bradley, trying to fuck his hand, but found it too slippery and kept making tiny noises of frustration until Bradley fisted his cock. Better, because he was still half inside Colin and could feel every little movement, ever stutter of his hips, every jerk of his limbs, every slide of his cock against Bradley's palm.

Almost better, really, and Bradley could hardly believe he thought so. But feeling Colin tense, then come, feeling himself _inside_ Colin, his own orgasm spent, had his body slipping into deep, warm, exhausted satisfaction. Keeping Colin this close, his cock or his fingers inside him, all evening, counting his breath, bones, and heartbeat was so tempting.

Eventually, Bradley moved off Colin to clean them both up in a hasty manner, and tucked himself in good and close to Colin once more.

"What are you doing?" Colin looked up from where he'd buried his face between Bradley's shoulder and the pillows.

"Hm… remembering you." Bradley rubbed the side of his thumb down Colin's spine. His skin was still warm and damp with sweat and he arched, and stretched beneath the touch as it moved down his back.

"Like you'd forget."

All the lost little parts of him reassembled themselves in those moments and Bradley knew that if he could hold them together, then he could try to be all the things and people that Colin needed him to. "Never."


End file.
